Page 35 of Dangerous Liaisons

Chapter Twenty-Four

Surprise flickered across his face. “What box?”

Jesse narrowed her eyes. “My safety deposit box.”

“I didn’t know anything about a safety deposit box.”

The denial sounded genuine, but he’d fooled her more than once.

“You’re good, Jess,” he said.

“Not good enough?” she muttered, now wishing they weren’t in the tavern so she could beat the snot out of him.

“The two hundred thousand could have been a single installment,” he said, “but the bribe didn’t fit with a woman who used every penny of her father’s life insurance to set up a six million dollar endowment to fund research for autistic kids and a four million dollar trust fund for her sister.”

Desperation bubbled up at the thought of the research fund going dry. Until a cure was found for autism, they needed funding.

Cole ran a finger along her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me, Jess?”

She blurted, “Tell you what?” then glanced around the tavern before pinning Cole with a glare meant to burn him to ash. “I don’t know you. You’re butting into business that you have no right—”

“No one knowing this could believe you’re a mercenary. Then there’s the incident in the alley. You thought I was some hick who couldn’t take care of himself. You could have left me to fend for myself. You didn’t.”

Jesse stared.

His gaze locked with hers. “Let’s not forget Lancelot. To you, he could have been just a dog, Jess.”

“Not just a dog. He was—” She broke off.

“He was what?” A corner of Cole’s mouth lifted in a tiny smile. “I know what you thought of Lance.”

“What planet are you from? This isn’t Mayberry, and—” she faltered. The guy was unreal. “No one gives a damn how altruistic I am. Plenty of do-gooders are dirty.” Her mind jumbled. “I’ve got to think about this.” She hated the weakness her indecision revealed.

Cole’s arm tightened around her. “You’re not running out on me again. Try, and I’ll handcuff you to me.”

The threat was delivered in a voice devoid of threat. Jesse remembered the alley, and how Cole had reacted like a man with little or no fighting experience. She had thought he was some big country bumpkin too inexperienced to take care of himself. Yet, he had taken her down in the doctor’s yard, then again in the hotel. The description of his Colombian experiences didn’t jive with his behavior in the alley or the soft-spoken man sitting beside her. Did it really take murder and a Colombian jungle to get him riled?

“Look, Cole, I told you before—”

“Don’t fuck with you,” he interjected.

Jesse blinked. He made the phrase sound about as dangerous as an ice cream social. She felt like she’d stepped through the looking glass.

“I’m telling you, you’re not running out on me,” he insisted just as quietly.

Jesse studied him. “Where are your men now?”

“Around.”

Apprehension turned to dread. A man with brains was far more dangerous than one who could fight. Jesse had a vision of the brown-toothed clerk at her motel spilling his guts to a tall American about a woman staying in room number twelve. Shaking Cole wouldn’t be so easy this time.

Cole loosened his grip, but didn’t remove his arm as he took a swig of beer. He set the bottle back on the table and asked, “What are we doing?”

“I told you I have—”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

He abruptly pulled her close and kissed her. His lips were soft and moist, just as she’d imagined. His tongue brushed lightly at her lips. Jesse broke the kiss, working hard to ignore the furious beat of her heart. Ernesta was right; she needed a man—only not this man. He was good, too good. But unlike him, she didn't buy that an altruistic act like him allowing her to have his bribe money made him innocent.

“You’re taking our cover just a little too far, don’t you think?” she said.

“Not far enough,” he replied.

Jesse jerked her gaze to his, but read only the same impassive look she’d grown accustomed to seeing. Who waited for him back home? She reached for her beer, but he surprised her with another kiss, this one quick and hard. He pulled back and stared into her eyes.

What would happen if she took him over to the seedy motel right now and slowly stripped him naked, then climbed on top of him? You’d fall so deep you’d never find your way out, that’s what, her mind responded, but the picture of straddling his waist and lowering herself onto his erection made her wonder if she gave a damn. Everyone had to go sometime. Emma Peel would agree. Cole had nearly died in the Colombian jungle. Jesse’s breath caught. Just how guilty was she feeling over what had happened to him? What about his team? How far was she willing to go to redeem herself in his eyes?